Savin' Me
by Qween of the Damned
Summary: "Loyalty. Honour. Strentgh." Three words synonymous with the Battle name. In a world where the Just with power decide what justice is, where will the truth fit in? The first installment of the Superhero Sagas, the tale of a Mutant world.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Long ago, far away, in the fair country of Germany, in a universe much like our own, there was an incredibly powerful and strong bloodline—the pyrokinetic super-hero family: The Battles.

They were among the best heroes in the world, and each generation was trained from an early age, and they were taught to know well their place in history, society, and the hero community. The Battle motto was an ancient German phrase that the first Lord Geoff had tattooed onto his arms as a sign that their family would rise: Loyalty, Honour and Strength.

Some records in the Battle Family History say it all the trouble began when Filedus Battle married Katya Sergeiovitch. She was the first non-Pyrokinetic in the family in over three hundred years. The Battle family had always prided themselves on their pure German, _and_ pure Pyrokinetic blood. Now, they had a complete newcomer: a Russian telepath. Everyone had been appalled when Filedus had made the announcement that he and Katya were to be married. But still, he was the eldest son of Harrold and Katherine Battle who had to wed, and the girl seemed nice enough. Katya bore him one child, and died giving the boy life. It just proved to the family that Russian women weren't as strong as Germans.

Filedus named the boy Barron, and the child inherited both his parent's powers, though fire was the stronger trait. The boy grew to be a man, and fell in love—with an American tourist visiting Germany. She loved him too, and returned several times to Germany to see him. He never told her, though, how his entire family—apart from his father—expected him to marry German. He left the tiny detail of being pyrokinetic out as well, and, after knowing her for two years, resolved to finally end it. The day she was to leave, he drove her to the airport, but as he said his good-byes, disaster struck.

A revenge-hungry mutant, left from the Second World War, cursed with long life and the ability to control air currents attacked the airport, attempting to kill and wound as many as he could. Barron, in that moment, feared not only that something would happen to his love, Amelia, but that she would find out what he really was, and would be repulsed. So he watched from her side, as his own family of heroes swooped down, and using their powers, and hidden behind their masks, saved the day. He saw as the crazed villain created a wall of fire, using his wind and the fire already made by the pyrokinetic heroes.

Barron blinked in surprise when the docile woman next to him let go of his hand, and pulled an eye-mask out of her back pocket. _There's no time to change fully, hon. I'm sorry you had to find out this way,_ she explained in a rush, even as she ran off to aid the heroes. Barron almost laughed at his own stupidity at not realizing who she was—and then snapped into motion himself. The day was saved, thanks to the help of Amelia 'Psy-Saver' Peace, and Barron 'Firebird' Battle.

Amelia was accepted into the family a lot more easily than Katya had been. Perhaps it had been her unusual entry and rescuing that swayed the older generations of Battles, or even her obvious control and her perfect execution of her powers when she used them. So, three years after they met, Barron and Amelia married. Neither expressed a desire to stay in Barron's homeland, and so they left, promising to come for summer and winter holidays and promising that they would always bring their children—_when_ they had any. Filedus found it hard to say good-bye to his only child—his brothers had three, or four, or even six children—and none of _them_ were leaving. Barron suggested the old man come with them America. So the two Battles and the one Peace left Germany, but not for the last time.

Amelia had two children—twins—and didn't die during childbirth, thus scoring even more points in the rest of the Battle family's eyes. She named the boy Warren, after her own father, and Barron named the girl Norah, after his favourite singer. ("There are worse names," he reasoned.) Their very first Christmas was spent in the Battle mansion, with its large, extensive grounds, as was every Christmas and summer vacation after that.

So far, little has been said of the Battle, or even the Battle-Peace domestic life. When the children were five years old, and could walk, run, ride horses, and swim rather efficiently for their ages, they found out what it really meant to be a hero when your last name was Battle—or even when half your last name was Battle.

In the mornings in their summer vacations, they were woken at sunrise, and dragged out by Darren Battle—Filedus' younger brother. Warren and Norah were subject to the exact same treatment as the rest of the young Battles. There was Harrold, five years older than them, Lisa, eight years older, and further in her training, (who lorded it over them as much as possible) and there was Michael and Shawn, Dar's own twins, born in the same year as Warren and Norah. These six children were trained to fight without their powers. ("Not like we have them yet, anyway," complained Shawn.) They were trained to use almost any kind of weapon in the arsenal that was situated below the mansion ("Oh, God, he's teaching Warren and Norah to use guns? _Machine_ guns?" "Don't worry, Amelia, I went through the same training, and look how fine I turned out. It's for the best, in case they _don't _get a power, you see?")

On their tenth birthday, Warren was given a box that to him, looked like a big dictionary. He was mistaken—it was a set of twin revolvers from the entire Battle family—engraved and made especially for him. His sister got a box about a meter long, and two hands-breadths wide. It contained two Samurai swords. Their mother realized, a little sadly that the family had given the children something...they were good with.

None of the Battle children were allowed innocence for very long. They were trained mercilessly, and when they grew up and registered with the International Superhero Agency, they would become some of the best heroes around. Warren and Norah were to be no exception—ninth generation heroes—and they were to act like it.

_How different the Peace's were_, the twins thought, whenever they went to visit their aging grandparents and three cousins. How different and how _small_ this other family was. Where the Battles had what seemed like a million cousins running around the mansion, the Peace's owned a small ranch, and had only had two children—their mother, and her brother, William, who was more often called Bill. They were allowed to call their grandparents 'Nan' and 'Pa', as was insisted by all around. When the two highly trained ten year olds received a Lego set, and a beach Barbie respectively from this side of the family. They said their thanks, and were grateful, even though Warren had never even tried to play Lego, and Norah had stopped playing Barbies when she started playing with guns. They returned to their home in New York, both retreated to their separate rooms, and the Lego box was placed next to his wardrobe, and the Barbie set on top of a shelf, along with the few girly items she owned. Neither could wait for the winter break to come.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_New York City, 1999_

"Mom, Dad, we're home," Warren yelled as Shauna, their petite blonde maid closed the door behind the twins.

"Your parents are in the back room, kiddo," she said, ruffling the boy's head. He grinned and shook her off, and raced his quiet sister down the hall of their suburban home. He beat her to the door of the 'back room', where his parents went, mostly alone, and mostly to talk business—superhero business.

"Norah, Warren, go upstairs and change your clothes. I'm not having Shauna wash your uniforms for the _third_ timethis week," Amelia said as she kissed them both on the cheeks. Behind her back, Barron made a face at the ten year olds, pretending to dislike having to sit in the office and talk. Norah giggled as Warren rolled his eyes, and they left the room. Amelia looked over at Barron and sighed as she sat down.

"How many have escaped from the prison?" Amelia asked, her voice slightly muffled as she spoke into her palms.

"Only three, but that's more than enough. Master-Mind is working on tracking them," Barron said, referring to one of the heroes whose power was super genius.

"But they were last seen in New York!" Amelia hissed. She glared at him, as if she wanted to blame him. "My kids—_our_ kids—walk to and from their school every day. You're not the world's favourite hero, especially if you look from a villain's perspective! You're the hero who put most of the prisoners into Maxville's Super Prison! I..." her voice cracked, and the angrily brushed at the tears that threatened to fall. "I just don't want them to get hurt." Barron got up off the couch, and held her, stroking her head as she spoke.

"I won't let anything—"

He was cut off by a beeping tone. He looked at the gray phone on the desk, and sighed before picking it up.

"Firebird," he said curtly. Amelia watched him as he listened to the voice on the other end, ending the call with a simple, "We'll be right there." He replaced the receiver and explained quickly, even as they began to suit up, that the three escapees had been located not far from here. The Commander and Jetstream, Rain Man, as well as Master-Mind were all on the way.

"Warren, Norah!"

They found the two in the kitchen, making sandwiches.

"We have to go," was all that was said, and hasty kisses were delivered, before they left out the back door, avoiding Shauna all the way. Norah looked at Warren, before turning on the TV in the kitchen.

"...And there is mayhem in the streets, the bank just blew up, and it's rumored that the villains who did this were actually the same escaped convicts from the Super-Villain prison!..."

The frenzied news reporter carried on her rant, and Norah took a bite of her bread.

"Can you feel dad?" She asked without looking at her brother. It was something they had never told their parents about—they could both feel their father's presence, even when not in the same room. Norah normally felt him stronger, and the fact that she didn't even get a tingle bothered her.

"No. He must be further away," Warren said. Norah nodded, and continued to watch the screen. The camera filming the event almost seemed to be handled by an amateur—it kept shaking, and zooming in and out, never really focusing. They watched the blurry screen until the heroes arrived—their parents included. The Commander was lifting a school bus out of the way of the falling building, and Rain Man seemed to be trying to put out the flames from the blast, when there was another one, somewhere off screen. Warren wished the camera would turn and show what had happened, and he grinned when it did. Another building close by had exploded, and the villain was laughing manically on the side. Psy-Saver was seen using her telekinetic abilities to get the civilians away, and there, overhead, flew Jetstream...doing something. Fighting a villain in the air, it seemed, but they couldn't be sure.

"Amateurs. Stupid shaky camera," Warren growled.

The camera moved back down to earth, and showed Firebird absorbing the flames, only to get hit in the face by the villain who had been laughing. He returned the punch, and Warren and Nora cheered, they knew there was little chance of the bad guy getting up after that knock out. They watched Firebird continue absorbing, and Warren felt a tickling sensation in the back of his head.

"Can he take that much without exploding himself?" Norah asked, looking to her older brother for guidance.

"I don't know," Warren muttered, rubbing his head.

"What's wrong?"

"I have this—OW!" He said, getting up from the couch, and holding his head in both hands.

"Warren. Tell me what it feels like," Norah said, panic lacing her voice.

"It just hurts!" Warren half yelled. He sat back down and glared up at his sister, who was hovering over him. Her eyes were wide.

"You—you're on fire!"

In the minutes that the children had looked away from the screen, a lot had happened at the New York Bank.

The Commander realized the villains had set a blaze all around the spot where the heroes where fighting, and Rain Man, for some reason wasn't getting enough water fast enough to put it all out. Firebird looked to be struggling as well; flames licked his body even as he absorbed more. Yelling for Jetstream to pick him up, The Commander grabbed the bus of screaming school kids, thinking of his own nine-year-old son. These were the only civilians left in the ring of fire; even those crazy reporters had backed off. Jetstream held on grimly, and they passed over the spot where Firebird was taking more fire in. Rain Man, seeing the pyro struggling, caused his fast-diminishing rain cloud to help them, so The Commander could get through safely.

Psy-Saver turned from one of the villains, whispering into her husband's mind a few words of encouragement. She heard him half-yell that he was nearly up, he couldn't anymore—and the bus of school children fell. Psy-Saver's mouth dropped in horror as it fell into the building Firebird and Rain Man were trying to douse. She could hear their screams, even as the villain she had turned away from hit her hard in the back of her head. She crumpled, but not before seeing Firebird take in more of the fire, screaming that those were just kids, _what_ had The Commander _done_?!

All of the tapes from whatever cameras had caught the scene were blurry, fuzzy, or missed that part.

The Bureau for Supers said there had to be a court case, because someone had to be held responsible—the parents of those children were screaming for blood.

The Commander and Jetstream said that Firebird had let go of his control over the fire, and that was why they had dropped the bus.

Firebird and Psy-Saver cried out at the lie, and said that Firebird had been holding on with every ounce of his will—The Commander was at fault here, he had dropped the bus.

Rain Man and Master Mind were brought in to testify. Rain Man said he couldn't understand how The Commander had dropped the bus—such a huge mistake had never occurred before. Rain Man disagreed when they asked if he thought it was Firebird's fault—but he didn't blame The Commander either. He asked to be excused from the case, but was refused. He left anyway, torn between loyalties—old school friend and the truth. Master Mind had not been at the actual site when the mistake happened, and so was also excused from the case. It was couple versus couple, and the judge and jurors were to decide, there being no clear evidence as to who did what.

Warren and Norah Battle were only allowed to come to the final hearing, when the judge proclaimed the verdict. Their grandfather Filedus sat with one of them on either side of him, holding their hands. Both children were filled with an immense hate when they saw The Commander enter, Jetstream by his side. Filedus thought he felt a familiar warmth in Warren's hand, but said nothing of it.

"We find Firebird, alias Barron Battle, guilty as charged by The Commander. He will serve—"

"NO!" came a cry from the spectators. Everyone turned to see Norah Battle run past the guards and grab her father, holding him tight, as if she would never let go. As if she could keep him there forever. The guards held her, trying to prying her away, even as her brother pushed at them, not noticing the small flames lick up his arms and begin to singe his suit. Filedus and Amelia both ran to get the children, one of whom now was fighting the guards off his sister, the other unconcerned with anything, except holding on to her father as he whispered in her ear.

The judge banged his anvil, calling for order, but none was received.

Filedus pulled Warren off a guard, and Amelia gently pried Norah from her father's grasp. The rest of the spectators were in an uproar—surely a man who could not control his own family could not control his own powers! Surely one who put up such a display in a court room had no respect for the Supers' rules, regulations, and codes. Who knew what else this _madman_ was capable of?

"I sentence you to a triple life sentence, with visits from your unruly family once only every two months!" the judge said when he could be heard at last. Amelia had to keep herself from crying out at the verdict, and Norah, who had one moment been crying into her mother's shoulder, heaved herself back up.

"You!" She yelled, pointing at The Commander. "How can you sit there, you know that you lied, you know that you—"

"Shut that child up! I called for Order!" The judge was shouting.

"Norah please, listen, don't do this," her father said.

"—You did it, and you're blaming my dad, coz you're guilty as sin! Stop blaming him!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs, pushing her mother and grandfather off, and she made her way to The Commander's seat, using six years of training andtechnique to avoid getting caught by people. She reached him, and he looked at her tear streaked, angry face.

"I _hate_ you!" She screamed. And then she exploded.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

It had been a long day.

Warren sat on the floor, Amelia stood by the door, and Filedus occupied the only chair in the hospital room where Norah lay, too drugged to be awake if she even wanted to be. The door opened, and Amelia stood up straight and uncrossed her arms, looking at the tired doctor in front of her. The doctor gave a half smile.

"She acquired her powers, Mrs. Battle, that's all. The only reason she exploded is because like all Pyrokinetics, her emotions can control her abilities. She'll have to learn to con—"

"You're telling a _Battle _to learn to control her powers? My dear boy," Filedus said from his seat, "You really think that's necessary? We have some of the best superheroes in our name. All of them Pyrokinetics, and all of them execute perfect control."

"Except your son, Barron Battle," the doctor said. Filedus narrowed his eyes and stood, disregarding his walking cane.

"You will _never_ say his name in that tone of voice you insolent bastard! You are so blinded by your country's _hero_ that you cannot see when that hero betrays you!" He slammed a fist into the wall a few inches from the doctor's head, sprinkling concrete and plaster onto the man's shoulder. Amelia jumped, and Warren stood up, ready to fight by Filedus. But the old man walked away, and stood over Norah, brushing a tendril of dark hair out of her face. The doctor said a few more words to Amelia, and left. As he did, the door revealed another man, who entered.

"Judge Hesston," Amelia said curtly. Her curtness was marred by her tired and sad voice. Filedus turned, only to stare hard at the man, before returning his eyes to his granddaughter. Warren curled his hands into fists at his sides, struggling to control his emotions—his anger.

"Your daughter's display in the courtroom this morning could have cost people their lives, Mrs. Battle," he said, sounding a little smug.

"Your verdict cost my children their father," Amelia retorted, weariness gone from her voice, and replaced by anger.

"I see. Your view on this is skewed, Mrs. Battle. You'll see it will all be for the best. A dangerous man is now locked away."

"For the _best_?" Warren sneered. "You really think so? Gee, I can see how not seeing my dad for extended periods of time can be for the best. I can see how the man who killed those kids still being loose is _for the best_!" His voice quivered, it was so filled with anger. The judge looked down his nose at the boy with short, messy hair, his eyes flicking to the girl, shoulder length hair sprawled over the hospital pillow. He knew, without having to look, that both had eyes just like their father. Hesston could almost see the flames dancing in them.

"Mmm. Mrs. Battle, I came to tell you the rest of your..._bad_ news. Your daughter's unruly display proved that she needed discipline, and so the Bureau and all decided that she should be sent off to Rawlings Military Academy."

"_What_!" Amelia whispered dangerously. Warren saw Filedus turn to face the judge, one arm already on fire. His rumpled suit singed and burned, revealing the trademark tattoos of intricate flames that Warren had gotten, and now, Norah.

"I'm very sorry and all that, but really. You should blame yourself, not teaching those children the proper code of conduct." He was eyeing Filedus warily, gaze flicking to Amelia and Warren as well.

"_Get out of here before I fry you_!" Filidus roared, and the judge Hesston fled. The small, broken family was alone, and quiet for a long while.

"Mom, Rawlings isn't even for super-powered kids," Warren said, realizing this for the first time.

"I know," she responded sadly.

"Then how can they send her there?" Warren had never been separated from his sister before. They were close at home, and school, at play. He began to panic. "They can't take her away. They have to take me too, I don't care how good she is at sparring and at shooting, she's my little sister, there'll be no one to look after her! I have to go with her!"

His mother held him, soothing him softly, and looking over at Filedus with worried eyes. The old man smiled sadly, and tapped his cane against the floor.

"Warren."

"Yes, sir?"

"Your sister will be wearing a power-neutralizer. It's what they make us wear when they don't want to deal with it, when they want everything to go their way," he said, and swore in German. Amelia looked at him reproachfully. He apologized. He muttered something about getting some coffee, and left. Amelia looked at Warren's tousled head as she held him. Were they going to take everyone away from her?

The plush office, with its beiges and browns, did nothing to calm her. Amelia glared at the man in front of her. "You have no right. _No right_ to tell me where and where I cannot enroll my son! I've already told you I will comply with your rules for my daughter, but now, when I try to keep my family together, you tell me it isn't possible?"

"Mrs. Peace—"

"Battle."

"Right. Mrs. Battle, I understand what you're saying, but I tell you, one dangerous super is bad enough. I can't have _two_ pyrokinetics running around my school. In case you hadn't noticed, this is a _normal_ school, not one for you mutants."

"You say mutants with such distaste that one would never say _we mutants_ have saved the world on countless occasions. Please, Mr. Green, I'm begging here. I know you're a father—imagine being separated from your children at a time like this!"

Principal Green looked at her, and she saw his look soften. She bit her lip.

"If I may come in, Mr. Green, Miss Battle," a cold voice spoke from behind her. She turned to the doorway, to see Agent Foley, one of the bureau's men, walk in. He had been present at her Barron's hearing—she had met him then. She inclined her head slightly, and he sat in the seat next to her.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Foley?" Green asked.

"I simply came to make sure Amelia here was playing by the rules," he retorted, glancing at her. She kept her eyes straight ahead, and smiled stiffly.

"Of course I am."

"I heard what you're requesting of the Principal, and I'm here to tell you it's absolutely out of the question."

"Why?" she kept her voice level, but her heart sank with every moment.

"Because I have orders to keep your twins far apart."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Not my problem. My problem is to follow orders, and if you get in my way, I swear, I will neutralize the threat."

Amelia didn't doubt him. "Visits?"

"Are permitted. Warren will continue at the school he is at, then, when of age, go to a high school of the bureau's choice. Norah will go to Rawlings Middle School, and eventually, closer to you, Rawlings High. Understood?"

"What other alternative do I have?"

"You can hand them over to the bureau where they'll be sent to respective schools while you and your husband rot in prison. For some reason or another."

Amelia was silent. She closed her eyes, opened them, looked at the silent principal, stood, nodded to both men, and walked out. She didn't look back as she left the building.

When she finally got into her car, her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't get the key in the ignition. She leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes again, and screamed wordlessly, pounding the steering wheel in frustration.

Was everything they'd worked towards—being heroes, and honourable, and respectable—going down the drain like this? She hadn't seen this coming. None of her readings had ever revealed this pain, this anguish, that they were now going through. It was ridiculous. How could they? Warren and Norah were just children—like the ones the Commander had killed!

Amelia tried to calm her breathing and her thoughts. It might have been an accident, what the Commander had done. It might have been—probably had been. But the fact that he and his wife _lied_ and accused someone innocent—that, _that_ was what she had a problem with. Amelia and Barron had worked with the Commander and Jetstream before, but not often. The two were the all-American-heroes, while the Battles worked worldwide.

"Oh, gods," Amelia groaned, tears finally spilling.

That last night with Barron was all the memory of him she would ever have. What if something happened months before they were allowed to see him? What if the bureau revoked their right to visit?

"Please no," she moaned, sobs wracking her body. "Please, please, I just want him back. Oh gods…"

Warren and Norah were curled up together on the couch in the living room, fast asleep, TV dinners untouched beside them. Shauna looked at the kids worriedly, before picking up their trays, and heading back into the kitchen. Amelia hadn't gotten back from whatever appointment she'd had at eleven the morning and it was almost twelve hours later. The kids had tried so hard to stay up, but eventually….

Shauna sighed as the tidied the kitchen, packing away and doing last minute things. She'd been surprised when Amelia had sat her down, and told her everything. Shauna respected the woman's guts—she needed someone to be with the kids, she could have told Shauna anything—but instead told her the truth.

Shauna didn't believe Barron was guilty. Seven years of working with the Battles might have made her seem biased in some opinions, but she saw it as being knowledgeable. Firebird was a fierce hero—but he reflected his alter-ego, Barron—his courage was tempered by humanness, his sternness by trustworthiness, and besides, the man was smart. He would have assessed all risks, and probably had, but the Commander and Jetstream had flown _right over_ the building…

Shauna sighed, and sat down to wait until Mrs. Battle came home.


End file.
